


Microwave Mishaps

by gray_zelle



Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [3]
Category: A Series Of Unfortunate Events (Netflix)
Genre: F/F, L&S, but we won't hold that against her now will we, esme being an idiot as well, gray-zelle squalezkaban, heads up for esme only wearing lingerie tho it's not a nsfw thing it's an in-character thing, heads up for mild coarse language v mild, larry is mentioned too!!, love and squalezkaban, microwave assault, olivia's baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_zelle/pseuds/gray_zelle
Summary: Just before dinner, Jacquelyn and Esmé pretty much assault the Penthouse's new microwave.#1.03 in the Love And Squalezkaban series!!
Relationships: Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Esmé Squalor, Olivia Caliban/Jacquelyn Scieszka, Olivia Caliban/Jacquelyn Scieszka/Esmé Squalor
Series: Love And Squalezkaban: Collection #1 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592197
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Microwave Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonsandRosemary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonsandRosemary/gifts), [msariadneoliver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msariadneoliver/gifts), [kitsnicketts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsnicketts/gifts).



> heads up for:  
> \- Esmé wearing just lingerie but not as a nsfw thing, she's just big chillin in the Penthouse in her underwear you know how it is  
> \- mild coarse language  
> \- burns  
> \- explosions (muffin-sized)
> 
> this is also dedicated to olivia-caliban and olivia-caliban-coulson on tumblr!!

“I have to say, Jacquelyn, Leonard was right on the money with this microwave idea,” Esmé said, rummaging in the fridge. Wearing a gold set of lingerie, and nothing else; because that’s how Esmé cooked, cleaned, and did everything around the Penthouse. 

Sitting at the breakfast bar, Jacquelyn didn’t correct her. Not just because she was reading, and not paying attention - she knew Esmé was terrible with names.

This article on the latest Chevrolet Chevelle was much more interesting, so Jacquelyn kept reading. 

Esmé  _ clearly  _ didn’t notice the car on Jacquelyn’s page, and went on. “And it’s a good thing microwaves are In. They’re helpful. I like ours so much, I think I’ll keep it when they go Out.” 

Jacquelyn jumped when Esmé dropped a knife. She looked up, meeting Esmé’s eyes, the look in them a little wild, even aggressive. Yet, Jacquelyn didn’t bite - Olivia would be home any minute, and both her girlfriends hated her arriving to arguments. 

“When microwaves go Out, you won’t tell anyone I’m keeping ours, right?” 

“I won’t.”

The knife was lazily pointed at her (Jacquelyn knew Esmé wouldn’t attack). “Promise?” 

“They won’t go Out anytime soon, babe. They’ll stay around for good; I know they will.” 

“Because Leopold’s been using them for a while, yes?” 

“Yes. Restaurants have had microwave ovens for  _ ages _ . They won’t go Out when they’re so handy, Esmé. And, yes, I promise.” 

“Thank you, darling,” Esmé said, finally lowering the knife.

“Anytime.” 

Esmé went back to her task, whatever it was- oh, abusing the knife on a cutting board. Jacquelyn looked to the microwave - shaped like an oven, ‘cause this isn’t the 21st century - and thought, yes.  _ Larry  _ sure was right. Esmé was, too; the microwave had definitely proved helpful.

Jacquelyn usually  _ tried  _ to be a helpful girlfriend, herself. Truth be told, though, if she had to help only one in a (calm) situation, she’d choose Olivia. Their past told her Olivia was more capable than she looked, and that Esmé was the disaster of them all. But watching Esmé flounder and struggle was often entertaining; though Esmé was highly intelligent, and  _ so  _ cunning, at times she could be just plain  _ stupid _ . 

This evening was one of those times. 

“Jacquelyn, don’t touch this cheese until Olivia comes home,” Esmé said, a little later. After she stopped torturing her girlfriend, not to mention that poor knife. 

“Is that for dinner?” 

“Yes, it is.” 

Her proud smile was hard not to laugh at. Still Jacquelyn said nothing, to keep an argument from breaking out. 

Then she half watched Esmé take to the fridge, half kept reading about the Chevelle. No doubt Esmé was searching for- yep, she was. 

The previous Sunday, Olivia baked cheese and bacon muffins. Like everything Olivia baked to treat her girlfriends, they were amazing. Jacquelyn knew Esmé was  _ wild  _ for said muffins; she’d actually held off eating them, herself, to leave more for Esmé. She would never admit it, though.

“Want one while we wait, darling?” 

“If there’s enough.” 

“There’s two left.” Esmé looked to the kitchen clock, and winced. “What Olivia doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

“You’re diabolical,” Jacquelyn joked. 

“I know. I’m just plain  _ evil _ .” 

Esmé opened the container, pulling out both muffins wrapped in tinfoil, because Olivia was like that. She tossed them in the microwave, lifting the door shut without a thought.

Just plain  _ stupid _ . 

Jacquelyn went to say something, then stopped. From where she sat, she could see the tinfoiled muffins starting a gradual heat up. She knew this wasn’t the  _ best  _ situation to get into, if she could avoid it - Larry had told her about idiotic, ignorant chefs and exploding things. Things wrapped in tinfoil. 

But Esmé  _ had  _ to know about tinfoil and heat, right? Surely she’d just forgotten, and would realise what she’d done. 

So when Esmé sauntered back to the microwave, Jacquelyn felt relief- 

She turned up the heat. 

“Esmé.” 

Turning, Esmé asked, “What?”, already sounding annoyed. Perhaps she sensed an argument. 

“You do know-” 

“How to turn it up? Yes, I do. It’s this button.” 

“But the muffins-” 

“What about them?” 

Jacquelyn’s sigh was interrupted by a crackling noise. She looked to the microwave window and found, yep, it was the foil. 

Then things got heated.

Getting up and crossing the floor, she snapped, “You see why, Esmé-” 

“Isn’t it meant to do that?”

“Not like that! The tinfoil- You didn’t take it off! You’re  _ meant  _ to take it off!” 

“I know that, but  _ now  _ you tell me?!”

Jacquelyn grabbed a mitt and tried yanking the microwave open. She yanked again, and again. 

When the door finally snapped downwards, the damage had already been done. Now, the foil was alight, flames wrapping around it, tighter than Olivia could hug.

Esmé looked to Jacquelyn, eyes wide. “What now?” 

Two little bangs, apparently. And  _ lots  _ of cursing. 

Perhaps ten minutes later, Olivia opened the Penthouse doors, making Jacquelyn and Esmé jump. Their girlfriend found them, and the muffins, in the kitchen; said muffins, or what was left of them, were smoking, singed and soaked, in the kitchen sink. Tinfoil was plastered to them, half the microwave’s insides, and the countertop. Shards of it had burned holes across the Chevelle page.

Common sense said that Olivia would’ve asked about the mess, first. Instead, sounding hurt, she asked, “Why are you arguing?” 

Jacquelyn apologised, nothing but ashamed.

“Darling, tell me,” Esmé said, “Do you think lingerie is fine to wear in the kitchen?” 

The penny dropped. “You’ve  _ burned yourselves _ ?” 

Olivia tossed her handbag and rushed to her girlfriends’ sides. Esmé’s was already covered in burn cream, while Jacquelyn only had a splatter on her cheek. Both of them winced when Olivia assessed the damage; Jacquelyn knew she was trying to help, and that was fine, but it  _ hurt _ . 

“How on earth-” 

“Tinfoil doesn’t go in the microwave,” Esmé stated. 

Olivia paused. “That’s right. It doesn’t. So why did it?” 

Jacquelyn went to explain, and yes she would’ve gone easy on Esmé, but Esmé (surprisingly) confessed. Since she didn’t always own her mistakes, it left Jacquelyn impressed. 

“But back to my initial question,” she added. “Can one wear just lingerie in the kitchen or not?” 

After hesitating - Jacquelyn  _ knew  _ Olivia was struggling with this - Olivia asked, “What do you think, sweetheart?” 

“Well, I look sexy as all hell, don’t I?” 

Jacquelyn couldn’t be civil anymore. “Do you  _ want  _ more burns, Esmé?” 

“Beauty is pain, isn’t it?” 

Just. Plain.  _ Stupid _ . 

Thankfully Larry knew where to buy Inly-patterned aprons.

**Author's Note:**

> ideally i'd name this 'If You Can't Stand The Heat By Bucks Fizz' but i'm gonna save that for another fic for now


End file.
